Sea Turtle
by Jane Bell
Summary: Set during CotBP; Elizabeth asks Jack if there's any truth to the sea turtles story.


_Disclaimer: All characters to the half-naked, very cute, little mouse. No copyright stolen, commandeered or privateered. I'm just borrowing without permission_

* * *

"Hush, love," Jack told her for the hundredth time when she moved to smooth her undergarment. "She ain't coming if there's noise on the beach."

"You're the one talking," Elizabeth said with a sip of her rum. "Why are we here, Jack? The bonfire is just on the opposite side of the island, and there's nothing-"

"'M showing you the truth of the story," he whispered and pointed at something on the waves. "See that black dot over there?"

"Everything is pitch-black now, it's _night!_" she said annoyed. Jack had insisted on coming to this side of the island after dinner – coconuts really, but it was all they had apart from rum – and had given her no reason for doing so. Inexplicably, she had followed him along the beach and sat with him under a palm tree a few feet before where the greenery ended and the sand began, nothing of interest happening since. "What exactly are we waiting for?"

"Rescue, as it were," he slurred, truly drunk for a change. "Be quiet, would you?"

It was dark, indeed, but the full moon sure helped a lot. Trying awfully hard, Elizabeth thought she could see something approaching, far too small to be a boat. Rescue? How could they possibly be rescued by a small, black something swimming to their little island?

She had nearly fallen asleep when she felt him tugging her sleeve. With a blurred vision, she saw that the little something was actually a large something, which was now very close to the beach and soon coming with difficulty to the sand. Large, with a green and brown shade to its back, a round head popping from its shell and was labouredly coming to end of the sand, close to where they sat.

"Jack," she whispered getting closer to him. "Is that…"

"A sea turtle, aye," he smiled with an arm round her shoulders.

"But, what-"

"Shhhh," he told her again with a finger to her lips.

But the turtle was paying them very little attention, scrambling on the sand as if in search of something. Elizabeth shifted in Jack's embrace. Noise would scare her away, he had said, so she leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear.

"What is she doing?"

"Finding a spot," he whispered back, his braided beard tickling her neck. "For her babes."

"Babes?" she asked as the turtle settled for a place a bit far from them and started digging. "I thought turtles laid eggs."

"They do," he rolled his eyes and continued as if explaining something quite obvious to a small child. "And aren't there babe turtles in them?"

Feeling a bit stupid, she nodded. Must have been the rum, she thought. She had certainly been policing herself to drink less than him, but that had been proving itself quite impossible with their discontinuous conversations and silly games that night. And now the turtle.

"She's making a nest, then?"

"Aye."

"Oh," she said nestling herself deeper in his arms as if wary of the chilly sea spray wetting her face. "She isn't that big, I mean, she couldn't have carried you to land."

"'Tis a green turtle," he told her with a smile to his reptile friend. "If it were a leatherback she could've carried us both."

"Did you try?" she asked slyly. "When you were last here, did you really try to rope one and make a raft with her?"

"Plotted," he admitted after a pause to sip his rum. "Couldn't when I saw the little ones, though."

"Jack Sparrow moved by seeing babies," she smiled genuinely at him. "Now I'm surprised."

"Nay, didn't have any rope," he said with a dismissing gesture. "Could have eaten them, you know, but it's said they taste bitter."

"So between actual food and rum you chose to drink yourself senseless?"

"T'was a prettier death, wasn't it? Which reminds me," he boldly kissed her cheek, which would have earned him a slap had he not gotten hold of her wrist to pull her up with him. "So that ours be prettier, we ought to have some music."

"We're not going to die, Jack," she said while being pulled towards their bonfire. What was he doing? She still wanted to see the turtle laying eggs…

"Not today or tomorrow, I hope," Jack slurred as they stood in front of the fire and he could see her more clearly. "But I'll take my chances. I showed you the truth to the story; want my song now."

"… Fine," she said with a cracked smile. "It starts like this…"


End file.
